You know, this is exactly why dad left
by Ollava
Summary: Everyone knows Jade West is a strange girl. Her fascination with all things creepy hasn't been unnoticed. What people don't know is how truly messed up she is and her family is no better. Not for the squeamish. I figured M-rating would be appropriate.
1. Home sweet home

**_/Jade/_**

It wasn't by any means new to me to sit alone at lunch. People had always been a bit hesitant to be around me, especially when I felt as cranky as I did today. It was still sort of strange, I hadn't realized how accustomed I had become to having company. Glancing over to Beck, Tori and André sitting across the Asphalt Café, I pierced my lasagna with just a bit too much force and half of it flew all over the table. It had been a week since Beck and I broke up after Sinjin's joke of a gameshow and I wasn't surprised everyone had chosen Beck over me. It had been inevitable. I had never been as much a part of the group as he was.

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I nearly jumped when Cat appeared beside me as bubbly as ever.

"Hi Jade!" she babbled, and seeing the messy table she added: "Wow what happened here?" At least the little redhead still spoke to me. I knew she felt uncomfortable picking between me and Beck like all the others had done. I simply shrugged as she sat down next to me.

"Did you see the casting for Sikowitz's play?" Cat asked cheerfully. I had always wondered if Cat was able to feel anything but joy, she was always so happy. It kind of made me sick.

"Yeah. Tori got the lead, didn't she?" I sneered, "No surprises there." The redhead smiled faintly not knowing what to say, so she started blabbering on about her brother's turtle and my brain zoned out in the matter of seconds. The play. Yet again, Tori had robbed the lead role from me. At this point I couldn't make myself care anymore, clearly she was the superior one of us, at least in Sikowitz's mind. Little miss perfect Tori Vega.

Both Beck and Tori were laughing together a few tables over which made me want kill something, other than the lasagna I was eating.

"Bye Cat", I said cutting off the girl's sentence and stormed back inside the school. I really wanted to go home but I knew my mom would probably chop off my fingers if I skipped school, and I had grown quite fond of my fingers, I'd rather keep them. To amuse myself for the rest of the day I broke in to Beck's locker and took his shirt. It wasn't not hard, he hadn't changed the combination since we broke up. I pulled the scissors from my boot and leaving Beck's locker wide open, I headed off and in a few moments the shirt was history and my mind had relaxed a bit.

I loved driving the car. It was the one moment when I got to be completely alone despite the crowds of people all around me. I could blast some music at max and sing along like there was no tomorrow. I was able to remember many nights when I had been grateful to have this escape. There were countless nights when I had driven the car up to the national forest simply to get away from the world, just for a while. When Beck and I fought, when my mother became unbearable. Driving was just a perfect way to forget everything.

So, when I drove home from school I was able to forget the way Beck's eyebrows had pulled together when he'd found his completely destroyed shirt in the dumpster. I didn't remember Tori's hand on his shoulder or the accusing looks they had given me. There was only the road, the music and the beaming sun of Los Angeles but it didn't last long enough. Before I knew it, I had pulled up to my driveway. There was just one more thing to do to keep my mind focused on something other than Beck, or Tori. Or anyone. So, I let my feet lead me inside the house and towards the basement. I noticed the used plates on the kitchen counter and a jacket left in the coat rack beside the basement door. I signed, knowing my mother would be down there but I opened the door anyway. The sound of my boots echoed in the staircase as I climbed down just to witness the bloody mess a woman I call mother, had made. Once again. The floor was nearly flooded with blood and she'd even managed to get it on the walls and all over the counter.

"Mom! Why do you always have to make such a mess?" I grunted with a sigh of irritation, annoyed when I saw the basement because I knew I'd to have to clean it all up. The woman before me seemed taken aback. Her dark hair was a mess around her face and the dim light made her look even paler than she really was. "I must have gotten a bit carried away", she mumbled and started wiping the weapon in her hand clean.

"You always do." I rolled my eyes grabbing a small cage from the top shelf. The squirrel inside it squeaked trying furiously to escape but it had become too weak. I smirked knowing it's thread of life was in my hands. Meanwhile mother had started to sort out her knife collection. "So, what did he do?" I asked nodding in the direction of a man hanging on the wall upside down. Knowing my mother, he probably said something sexist to her so she seduced him to get him here and tie him to the wall. It had happened multiple times in the past anyway. My mother had her own way of viewing the world and her own ideals on how to make it a better place.

Her eyes narrowed at my question and she hissed: "Well, I hired him a few months ago and he's been bugging me ever since. Asking my number, going on a date. At first it was kind of fun." She rolled her eyes annoyed, "When I wouldn't have sex with him, this little asshat got pissed and as a revenge he went and lost half a million dollars to my company and we can't have that, now can we", she continued, now talking to the barely conscious man who had started to groan in pain. "Also, he's a republican and honestly that's the only reason I need."

"You know, this is exactly why dad left", I snapped grabbing my squirrel and quickly finishing it off with a quick snap of it's neck. I wasn't quite as fond of blood as my mother was.

"Your father was such a pathetic man."

"I don't really understand why you married him in the first place", I said as I started carefully carving out the eyes of the squirrel. "It was a summer romance, surely I've told you before. It was all fun and games until we realized I was pregnant with you and we decided to get married", she explained with a frown. Her dark eyes seemed to look straight into my soul. I couldn't remember the last time we'd talked to each other like this, usually I tried to avoid her. She liked to talk about herself a lot and I didn't really care. She never asked me how my day was or how I was doing. I was sure she didn't know Beck and I had broken up, if she'd even realized I'd had a boyfriend in the first place.

"So, what you're saying is that I'm the reason you were miserable for nine years?" I claimed looking directly into her eyes, and she stared right back not bothered in the slightest. "I'm not saying that. You might have been a bit of an inconvenience but I still loved you."

"Gee, thanks mom." I nearly punctured the eye of the squirrel in aggravation and I felt even crankier than I did in the morning which I hadn't thought was possible.

"Now, be a good girl and go wake up your brother", mother signed turning back to the man who'd lost so much blood he was unconscious now.

"Can't you see I'm in the middle of something?" I snapped back at her dropping the first eye in a small jar.

"Just do it. He's been sleeping for the whole day." The meat knife in her hand and the madness in her eyes got me to lock my squirrel back in its cage and get up.

"The whole day?" Usually mother woke up my nine-year-old brother before dawn broke.

"He had a rough day yesterday, I gave him the permission to him stay home for the day."

"Yet, I couldn't stay home the time I got hit by that moped", I murmured quietly as I stomped back up leaving the gory basement behind me. Just before I slammed the basement door shut I could hear a slit of a throat and blood pouring onto the floor.

 **Reviews would be lovely**


	2. A tiny piece of metal

I couldn't say Coby had been happy to wake up. When I went up to his room, he was drowning in pillows and I nearly stepped on his pet, the red widow spider which I think he called Cupcake. Coby had always been a bit different from the rest of us.

"Wake up assclown, it's five in the afternoon and you've got to clean the basement!" I screamed loudly into his ear and the boy jumped awake. He quickly realized he wasn't being attacked by angry Vikings or any other seafarers and he quickly returned back to the pillows. "It's your turn twatwaffle", he insisted burying himself deeper into the bed and with a pillow thrown at me, he hissed: "Get out of my room!"

"Oh, we're playing that today?" I asked with a sneaky smile creeping on my face, "Get up Coby or something might happen to your spider, like, you know, he might accidently walk right under my boot." Coby looked completely terrified because he knew I wasn't kidding, Cupcake wasn't his first spider after all. "Get out! Get out, get out, get out, get out!" he yelled as he jumped out of the bed and forcefully pushed me to the hallway, and I couldn't help but laugh. I got a door slammed at my face but I kept laughing. Coby was too easy.

To my displeasure, the feelings of joy didn't last for very long. More specifically, the moment I opened the door to my room it was gone as fast as it had come and I felt my body sink down to my bed. I closed my eyes, and frustratingly, and if I was honest, painfully, the only thing I could see was Beck. His perfect eyebrows, his eyes full of light and the lips that wouldn't kiss me anymore. And it finally hit me, harder than ever before. Beck didn't love me anymore, and that hurt more than anything. There was a sinking feeling in my stomach so I wrapped my arms around myself and curled up into a ball. I felt like I was supposed to cry but I didn't know how. I hadn't cried in years, not after I saw my mother crying after dad had left. She always used to say that crying was a sign of weakness and seeing here cry like that, in the open and completely vulnerable, made me swear I'd never let myself be like her. And so, I didn't. I didn't cry when grandma died, or after mother accidently locked me in the freezer for an hour, or when dad never showed up at my birthdays even though I had sent an invitation every single year, and there was no chance I was about to cry now.

Nevertheless, it all still hurt and there was only one thing that I knew would help numb the pain. A tiny bit of metal that I had stored behind a painting right above my bed. I was supposed to use it for emergencies, only the times there was no other way to handle my mind but somehow, I found myself using this escape route more and more often. Before I knew it, I was sitting on the floor, there was a blade in my hand and my sleeve was pulled up. The blade craved blood so I surrendered myself to it and moved it up to my forearm and pressed it down. The skin didn't break right away but the cold touch of it already brought relief. I yanked it down and deeper into my skin to break it. A loud moan escaped my lips even though I tried to hold it back. The familiar sensation of adrenaline pumping through my veins was back, I could feel it all over my body. Once I lifted the blade there was a brand-new cut right next to the older ones. It stayed white for a brief moment but then the blood started coming out and soon enough it slowly flowed to the edge of my hand and dripped onto the wooden floor leaving red marks. Drip. Drop.

My body wanted more and at this point I was unable to stop. Cutting through the skin, feeling the pain and seeing the blood pour out, it was like a drug, so consuming and addicting, an easy escape from reality. And so my hand guided the blade back to my skin and pushed down.

I hadn't gotten back up to the bed but had stayed on the floor. My hand was burning against the floor and it felt like all the strength had drained out. With the hand, my mind had gone numb, it felt so peaceful. With a small effort I had turned off the table lamp and now it was completely dark, I liked it that way. If it wasn't, I could have seen the photo of Beck and I, that was on my bedside table. It was taken on the day of our first anniversary. The glass was shattered, but the picture was still there. I also could have seen the shelves filled with decorative animal skeletons, the dead butterflies on the walls and jars filled things that would make any other girl run off screaming. I imagined Tori here, she would be one of those girls for sure. Calling the police or even a mental hospital. I almost laughed at the thought.

Soon my mind became so numb I drifted off to sleep and, in my dream, I found myself locked in a coffin of blood. I could feel blood filling my ears and my nose. It seeped into my eyes and my mouth and I could taste the metal on my tongue. The blood was everywhere and I couldn't breathe, I had to get out but the cover was nailed shut. I pushed and pushed but there was no way out. Eventually blood filled my throat and I gave up.

"Jade, dear. We're ordering pizza, do you want any?" I woke up to my mother's voice coming from the door. I grunted in annoyance and managed to lift myself up. My heart was still pumping fast from the dream, it had felt so real. "Are you seriously incapable of knocking?" I snapped at her.

Mother ignored the sarcastic question but I saw her eyes widen as she saw all the, now dried, blood on my arm and on the floor. "Oh, honey. Do you want some Aloe Vera with that?"

"You know I hate that stuff."

"It'll help with the healing process."

"Get out mom."

"Okay but do you want the pizza or not?"

 _"_ _Leave!"_


End file.
